Past Heaven

by Laura Ward

I had been blown away watching the movie. Reynolds became Jack. He studied my stories and those of Jack’s colleagues closely. He included the little nuances in his role that were my husband. A part of me had worried that I would resent Reynolds when I saw him “pretend” to be Jack, but it was the opposite. Reynolds had taken his role seriously and with unparalleled respect for Jack. His portrayal showed me that Reynolds cared about him, and that only made me love Reynolds more.

  The hard part was having my life story on film for everyone to see. Even though people loved Jack, Elwood, and all the other prodigious people portrayed in the film, it was very raw for me. I missed Jack all over again and felt the trauma of his loss repeatedly. I felt him in my arms, drenched in blood, and I wanted to throw up.

  The way the movie ended, with me taking over as director of the Warren agency to carry on Jack’s mission and Elwood getting married to his long-term girlfriend, brought the audience closure. For me, it was necessary but not true. That wasn’t my ending, and while I didn’t know for sure what my ending would be, my life would involve Reynolds. I couldn’t wait for all of this to settle down, so I could be with him again.

  I stumbled out of bed, drowsy. “Who is it?”

  “Room service.” I opened the door and in came the cart and a very apologetic attendant. “I’m sorry it’s early, but the gentleman said that it had to be delivered immediately.”

  A warm smile spread over my face. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Tell me there’s a fire or something. Anything to justify interrupting my beauty sleep. You know how I get if I don’t have my eight hours.” Cindy felt her way into the room and then her jaw dropped to the ground. “Forget I said anything.” She came over, immediately awakened from her deep slumber. “Your man is the bomb. Shit, can I borrow him? Mmm. Champagne.” Along with the champagne, there was a huge tray of breakfast pastries, flowers, juice, and coffee. The note on the flowers read:

  I smiled and poured a steaming cup of coffee. I fired up my iPad to see if the movie reviews were out. As I drank the fabulous hot beverage, I choked. Front page on the L.A. Reporter was an interview with Kylie Ford.

  I scanned the article, with my heart in my throat, as tears pooled in my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Kylie’s interviews from last night were about me. She had lied about me to the national papers. She had blamed me for the ending of hers and Reynolds’ relationship and keeping them apart. What the fuck was happening? I cried out loud as Cindy read over my shoulder.

  “That fucking bitch. She has the nerve to claim you broke them up?” She grabbed the iPad from my hands and walked to the window. “Kylie says you approached Reynolds about this movie and convinced him to leave her when they were giving it another shot? Holy hell, Liz. Oh and this part is the best, that you kept making advances toward him during the writing process, but he fought you off? I’m going to kill her.” Cindy paced the room, waving my iPad in protest.

  “Yes.” My voice shook as I stood and read with her. “I like the section where she claims he wanted to be with her, and I told him ‘no movie deal’ unless he stayed with me. This is just bullshit. Bradley is going to flip his lid.” I rubbed my temples and sat on the couch.

  Cindy was quiet for a moment and then exploded. “Fuck me!”

  “What?” I jumped to my feet, and the room spun with my quick movement. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I would eventually find out.

  “There’s a follow-up story with Madeline Montgomery. She confirms Kylie’s story and adds that you even came on set and stalked Reynolds. You found out he was rehearsing with her and showing an interest in her, and you threatened to leak movie details if he didn’t stop. Son of a bitch, they’re making you look like a damn crazy person.”

  I wiped the tears from my eyes as the pounding in my head escalated. I hadn’t gotten a stress migraine since the funeral, but I could feel it coming like a freight train. My eyes hurt from the light of the room, my stomach spun with nausea, and my head ached like it was being squeezed in a vice.

  “Just get it over with. Anything else?” I put my head beneath my knees, trying to keep from passing out, and Cindy sat next to me, rubbing my back.

  “Just one more thing. Reynolds’ only comment is, ‘no comment,’ to all this fucking shit. He’s also seen leaving the after party with his arm around Kylie, kissing her temple. Oh my god, the picture is right here.” I raised my head to see my love, my soul, holding Kylie. I held my hand to my mouth and raced to the bathroom to vomit.

  I laid in my dark room with a cold washcloth over my eyes. The migraine medicine hadn’t taken effect, but at least I had stopped vomiting. What was going on? Could I have been played? Was this all for the movie? He couldn’t…he wouldn’t use me. But that picture. The ‘no comment.’

  I heard shouting outside and focused on taking deep breaths. Any noise threatened to make me get sick again and intensified the pain in my head.

  “No, you can’t see her. She doesn’t want to see you. She’s puking her guts out and has a migraine because of you and your little fucking sluts!” Cindy screamed at him, and I could picture his face when he knew what state I was in.

  “Liz!” Reynolds bellowed. “I’m coming in. I have to see you.” Reynolds burst through my bedroom door with Cindy on his heels. He flew next to me, bent on his knees, and put his head on my belly. I took the washcloth away from my eyes and looked at Cindy’s worried face.

  “It’s okay, Cind. I can talk to him.” I whispered because talking hurt too much. She nodded and closed the door, but not before shooting daggers from her eyes at Reynolds.

  Reynolds opened his mouth to speak, and I held up my hand. “You should go. I keep throwing up. So much pain, I can’t even communicate. We can discuss all this later.”

  Reynolds’ voice broke as he rubbed my hand. “I’m not fucking leaving you. I’m not,” He whispered heatedly. “It’s my fault you’re like this. I’m so sorry. Those women are bitches. I want to hurt someone. I….” I went to grab Reynolds’ hand and saw that it was wrapped in bloody gauze.

  “Reynolds!” I sat up, and the nausea returned with a vengeance. I leaned over the side of the bed where Cindy had left a trash can. Reynolds’ hands held my hair away from my face and stroked my back.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured as I vomited again. When nothing was left, he wiped my face with the wash cloth and tucked me back into bed.

  “What happened to your hand?” I mumbled miserably, eyes closed.

  “One very unlucky reporter asked the wrong question. I saw those stories this morning, and I was livid. I walked out my front door to come here and get you, and he yelled a dumb-ass question. Unfortunately for him, he was standing on private property. He’s missing a few teeth now, but my lawyer told me not to worry about it. I was within my rights to kick the bastard off my lawn.” Reynolds whispered.

  I smirked. “Grayson would be proud.” Reynolds laid his head again on my belly and held my hand.

  “Liz, you need to know that I said ‘no comment’ earlier in the night when they asked about us dating. I never would have said that about those horrible stalker remarks. Never. They took it completely out of context. The picture is altered, too. That was a photo from over a year ago. I’d bet everything I fucking have that Kylie even wore the same dress to make the picture look legit. I’m so sorry.” I could hear and feel Reynolds’ anguish.

  “Lay with me. Please, Reyn, hold me,” I whispered as he climbed in behind me.

  “I’ll never let go. Never, never, never.” His words were the last thing I heard before blissful sleep and lots of medication took away the pain.

  THE PRESS HAD been malicious to Liz. Her face was on the cover of every tabloid lining supermarket checkout lines. Each story was the same. Liz, the older, lonely widow, broke and mentally broken after Jack’s death.

  This had to end. Liz wouldn’t eat, and she wouldn’t leave her house. We were back in Baltimore, and I had tripled security at home and at the boy
s’ schools. Her parents came every day to help. I was there, too, but the world didn’t know that. We had borrowed a Goldman private jet to fly us back to Maryland in the middle of the night. This had been the only way to avoid the press.

  Now that the movie had been released, Bradley had given us the green light to go public with our relationship. The damage to Liz’s reputation had already been done and hadn’t affected the box office numbers. Since the story leaked had been fabricated, the production company was not holding us liable for breach. In the end, I didn’t think Bradley gave a shit. The movie was praise-worthy, and he believed that Liz should get her real happy ending.

  People loved the storyline and raved about the acting. Diane Welsh had called Liz the day before to tell her an endowment fund had been started in Jack’s name to handle the volume of donations pouring in. Agencies across the country were reporting a huge increase in private donations as well, all earmarked toward the closing of institutions. This degree of generosity had been more than we had ever imagined.

  I called my friend, Natalie, at People, who had been more than happy to set up an interview for her magazine. A phone call had also been placed to my real estate agent in Baltimore. I had made my decision. Borrowing Liz’s mantra, the time had come to get it the fuck together for my family.

  Natalie arrived the next afternoon. Liz had reluctantly agreed to do the interview with me after I had insisted this was the best way to get the paparazzi off of our heels. We both dressed in jeans and were comfortable and natural in appearance. After a few pictures were taken, Natalie asked me about my relationship with Liz.

  I held Liz’s hand as we sat on the sofa together. Liz curled her feet under her and leaned against me. I could feel her shaking and the protective side of me wanted to rip someone apart, but the logical side knew the real way to fix this.

  “Reynolds, rumors are rampant as to how you ended up working with Liz on the screenplay for Life Changing. Our readers want to know the real story. How did you meet Liz?” Natalie sat back in her chair, her smartphone recording our conversation.

  I took a sip of coffee. “Natalie, I’m glad you asked that question.” I pulled Liz in closer and smiled down at her. “After my highly publicized break up with Kylie Ford, I realized that I wanted to do something meaningful with my resources and my life. That’s when I learned about Jack Atwater and asked Liz to give me the honor of memorializing their story.” I nodded my head as I remembered those first few weeks, and a smile broke out across my face. “We wrote the screenplay together and I fell hard for her during that time.” I looked down at her blushing face and smiled. “Look at her. She’s absolutely amazing.”

  Natalie perked up. “So you are dating?”

  “Yes and no.” Both women looked at me with confusion. “We’re beyond dating. I fell in love with Liz almost from the start. Once I wore her down,” Liz chuckled and Natalie smiled, “I was determined that this would be the last relationship I was ever in. This is a commitment, not dating.”

  The wheels were spinning and Natalie’s eyes sparkled as she came to the conclusion that she was about to break a real news story or at least she assumed she was. “Reynolds, you’re known to be a romantic hero. Is it safe to say that you’re off the market and that maybe we can be expecting some wedding bells?”

  Liz rested her hand on my chest, looking up at me with eyes full of love. I cupped her jaw in my hand, meeting her gaze as I answered Natalie.

  “I haven’t asked her yet, but…” A smile tugged at her mouth, and my lip curled in a half-grin as the magnitude of my feelings for her hit me. “One day, I do see myself married to this woman.”

  A flush touched Liz’s cheeks and tears welled in her eyes. We hadn’t talked about marriage, and certainly not with a national publication. The truth was that I wanted the world to know how I felt about her. One day, I sure as hell would marry her.

  Natalie took a moment and looked between us. She flipped through her list of questions and fidgeted in her seat, glancing between us again. “Reynolds,” she said, “one of the buzzing questions is why you, a Hollywood heartthrob, would get involved with a widowed mother with three kids?” Liz immediately stiffened. I had expected this question, but no matter how many times we had talked about it, Liz still had her issues with this subject. “Your type has always been the young model or actress. What is it about Liz that would make you break your pattern?”

  Liz squeezed my hand and brought her other hand to her neck.

  “Great question, Natalie, but it’s the easiest one you’ve asked me. Liz is the polar opposite of anyone I have ever dated. That’s why I know with my whole being that she is the love of my life.” I took her hand off her neck, entwining it with mine. “We’re the same age, and Liz helped me discover that the younger women I had been dating were unfulfilling. She has three incredible boys that I love. They’re now my family. Liz is my best friend, and the best person I have ever met.” My voice rasped, and my eyes bore into her, determined that she absorb every syllable of the words I said to her. “It’s my privilege to love her.”

  “Reyn” Liz whispered, as she wiped the tears running down her face and stroked my jawline.

  Natalie cleared her throat and mouthed WOW to me. I couldn’t contain my smile.

  “Liz, would you like to add anything about Reynolds?”

  Liz sat up straight and looked at me with such vulnerability that I wanted to scoop her up and cradle her in my arms and shield her from all the pain she was feeling. I hadn’t done more than kiss her since our time in North Carolina. I had promised myself I would wait until the boys were told, and that day had finally arrived.

  Liz cleared her throat. “When my husband died, I was sure my heart was so damaged, it would never love again. Reynolds showed me that the power of love is both inescapable and infinite.”

  Liz’s words were meant for Natalie, but she looked into my eyes as she talked. A fire of arousal and adoration raced through my body. My hands shook as I brought them to her face and crushed my lips against hers.

  Natalie sat back and exhaled. “You both did it. I’m telling you. I’ve been in this business long enough to know, you’ll be Hollywood’s sweethearts. Good move opening up.”

  Natalie left as the boys returned home from school with Tim and Carl. Round one was over. We were off to round two. This one I was looking forward to.

  I GREETED THE boys with hugs and worked on their after-school snack. Griff and Grayson’s concerned expressions were evident as they watched me move around the kitchen. They didn’t know details, but they knew bad rumors were said about their mom, and they were worried. Reynolds sat at the table with them and shared cookies and carrot sticks. I came around behind and put my hands on his strong shoulders.

  “Hey guys, Reynolds and I want to talk to you about something, okay?” My voice was shaky from nerves. Our relationship would be more real than ever with the boys’ knowledge. They loved Reynolds. I just hoped they were okay with their mom loving him, too.

  “I’ve always told you that Reynolds was my close friend.” The boys nodded and kept munching. “Well, I have to tell you that now it’s more than just friends. I’ve fallen in love with him. Mommy and Reynolds love each other, and we both love you. We wanted you to know that.” My voice trembled as I spoke, knowing everything was now out in the open.

  Grayson spoke, or yelled, first. He jumped out of his chair and hugged me. “It’s about time, Mom. We’ve been waiting forever for this. Just, don’t kiss in front of me, okay? It’s wicked gross.” I kissed the top of his head and saw Reynolds’ blinding smile. He embraced Grayson, and then they bumped fists.

  Hayden looked confused. “Mama, I thought we’ve already been loving Reyn?” I laughed and knelt next to his chair.

  “I know you’ve loved Reynolds for a very long time. You told him that you loved him first, so that’s pretty special.” Hayden looked at the two of us and smiled.

  “Yup, I knew it first. Ha!” He giggled as he con
tinued to plow through his carrot sticks.

  I looked over to see Griffin studying his plate. He seemed uncertain as to what to say or how to act. Reynolds walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay with this, Griff?”

  Griffin glanced up with a small smile. “You’re great, Reynolds. You’re one of us, and I want you to be happy, Mom.” He looked over at me, and I saw his conflict. “But I don’t want to forget about Dad. Can you still love him, too?”

  Reynolds looked at me with compassion. I jumped up and pulled Griffin out of his chair. “Boys, what do I say to you before bed each night?” I held Griffin’s hands in my own and looked at each of my sons.

  “Past heaven.” They stated in unison.

  “Yes, past heaven. That was something your Dad and I said to each other anytime we needed a reminder of our love. The idea is that once you really love someone, and I mean the kind of love that fills you up from head to toe, it never leaves you. A love like that surrounds you, always. Time, distance, and even death can’t end it. That love is past heaven. I feel that way about you boys, and I feel that way about your father.” I looked over Griffin’s shoulder to Reynolds. “And now my love for Reynolds is past heaven, too.” Moisture formed in the corners of Reynolds’ eyes, and he only nodded.

  Griffin smiled and hugged me. “I get it, and I love you past heaven, too.” Griff pulled away and walked to Reynolds “You better take care of her, or you’ll have to deal with us three.”

  Reynolds didn’t crack a smile. He nodded and pulled Griffin into a hug. “I promise you, my man, I’ll take care of her forever.”

  “Now,” Reynolds cleared his throat, “there’s one more thing. This one’s a surprise for your mom, too.”

  Reynolds grabbed his keys off the counter and scooped Hayden into his arms. “Let’s roll,” he said, and we all followed him outside in curiosity.